Prince in the City [Harry Styles AU]

Chapter 7

ummmm. please look at the picture of harry attached. when these pictures from his rolling stones interview were released, i legitimately SCREAMED because of how prince-like he looks. like... it's like they KNEW i was writing this fic and needed some pics/inspiration. harry styles is absolutely the most royally stunning human being there is to exist. i am so blessed.

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Chapter 7

Prince's POV:

I stared at the phone, sitting on the couch with my elbows propped on my knees and chin resting on my interlaced hands, wondering when it was going to ring. If it was going to ring. Surely, the owner of it must have realized by now that it was missing and wondering where the hell it could be. But it just sat there on my glass coffee table, not making a sound. If I could, I would use it to call a number that could get me to reach the owner of the device, but there was a password on it which I couldn't hope to crack.

The more I stared at the phone, the more I thought about how I came to obtain it. How last night I had gone to a bar after calling up one of my father's contacts to get me a security detail. How I had gone around midnight and left not an hour later, unused to the feeling of being in a pub without my usual mates. How I had stepped outside, only for some poor girl who had been pissed out of her mind and had thrown up all over my shoes. And how her friend, a remarkably cute girl who had been stumbling over her words endearingly, only to flee the scene with her cell phone on the ground.

It was now eleven in the morning. My soiled shoes were in the trash and I had the phone of the cute girl on my coffee table. Not only was she missing her phone, but also the Dunkin Donuts gift card she had trapped between her cell and clear phone case. Surely, she'd be in need of one or both those things.

As I waited for the impending phone call, I turned on the unnecessarily big TV and tried to find something to watch, although my mind kept flickering back to last night. Of course, having a girl get sick all over my shoes was not something I'd rather remember, rather than the admittedly beautiful friend of hers that had taken all of her embarrassment upon herself. She had been mortified over her friend's drunken antics, only for that to clearly multiply when she realized who I was.

A smile spread on my lips as I recalled her unintentionally begging me not to behead her. She had absolutely no idea how to deal with the situation, and took the first escape that came her way. It was all rather funny, if I was being honest, except for when I later remembered I had puke all over my shoes. Even the security detail who had come out a bit too late couldn't help his laughter.

My thoughts were suddenly cut off when the shrill ringing of a phone reached my ears, and I was pleased to see it was the phone resting on the table. Picking it up, I saw the words home on the screen and answered the call, bringing the phone next to my ear as I greeted with an innocently amused tone, "Hello, prince of beheading speaking."

The sound of a startled gasp was my reply, prompting my smile to only widen as I could just tell this girl knew immediately who she was speaking to. It was silent on the other line for a few moments, yet I patiently waited until I heard a familiar voice mutter a soft, "Oh, shit." My eyebrows raised, and as if she could sense this, the girl immediately backtracked in a hasty tone. "I mean, hi, I'm sorry. Hello. Hi, this is Vera."

My smile turned into a whole grin, partly because she was once again endearingly stammering over her words and partly because I now knew her name. "Hello, Vera. This is Harry," I returned, keeping my tone casual and light as I leaned back on the plush couch, left arm folded across my torso as my right hand held the phone. "But I'm guessing you already knew that."